


Blood Oranges

by The_Upside_Down



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types, Call Me by Your Name - André Aciman
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Older Man/Younger Man, Strangers, Teacher-Student Relationship, Will update tags as story progresses, stranger kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:41:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24392959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Upside_Down/pseuds/The_Upside_Down
Summary: Elio is having an awful week and then has an encounter with a particular stranger. Twice.
Relationships: Oliver/Elio Perlman
Comments: 3
Kudos: 16





	Blood Oranges

**Author's Note:**

> This story contains original character, Elio's roommate. His main purpose is to introduce the main characters to the reader. This is my first story so it may be shit. I almost forgot to say: I don't own Aciman's characters.

Kevin's POV

Our shared room was empty when I picked up Elio's little black art book. On the first page there wasn't any art but a few words. Poetry? I started to read his book.

Something was harrying  
What burden was I carrying  
Is it...

"Hey!! What are you doing with that?" Elio turned me by the shoulder and grabbed his book, quickly tugging it into the backpack he had on him. He wiped a palm across his face. 

"I'm sorry bro. Didn't mean to prey." I looked him up and down. He looked terrible. His hair was all over the place and he was paler than a ghost with dark circles under his green eyes. I shouldn't have let him take drugs with us last night. He is different than the rest of us. My parents would kill me if they knew.

Truth be told it was the first time I was worried about the guy since he'd moved to our country a month ago. He had been happy when his parents introduced him to my folks, long-time friends of the Perlmans with shared academic twinkles in their eyes, and me, pot-lover and aspiring tattoo artist. Elio had moved in with my family for the time being until the start of his semester at Columbia. 

Things had been great up until last week. I used to strum him rock songs on my guitar and then he would play classical pieces I hadn't even known was transcribed for the instrument. We were different but I enjoyed his company (more than I would ever admit). I had introduced him to his first piano student, Clementine and so we both had started side hussles in a month's time, me with a little tattoo shop not far from the house. At night we played Battlefront and other games and he would tell me stories of his time in Bordighera, about the girls in Italy and his long distance relationship with a girl called Marzia.

"That book's deeply personal, I don't want anyone reading it okay? On another note; I need to start packing up and moving my stuff as of yesterday. I will probably need to drive between the house and dormitory a couple of times since it's a lot of stuff to put on a bike. Thanks for lending me it by the way, it is very light on gas." Elio then sighed. He threw his keys on the table by the closet and started pulling out hangers full of clothes, haphazardly throwing it on his bed that was next to mine.

"What, like, now? I don't think you should be travelling a lot today. Sleep it off. Climb back into bed." I watched him take a black cloak out of the closet and then an empty box that he started to throw his belongings in. He had a slight twitch to his movements.

"Semester starts Monday and it's already Saturday," Then he threw a brown cloak in my face that I caught and draped next to me. "This can't wait Kevin. I should have gone to your local library this week too, but I didn't even do that." 

"Okay well maybe just borrow a book and come back here. The university is a long distance from our house. My parents would freak if they were back and saw you doing heavy weight travelling looking like a sick dog. What is up with you in anyway? I mean besides the drugs which I can't believe I'm saying this, I'm starting to regret doing with you. You've been acting weird since Monday, or was it Tuesday? I can't tell because I've been baked too." Elio yawned. I was sitting on my bed playing with my container full of guitar picks, looking up at Elio.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I've been chipper the whole week." He grabbed his keys and a suitcase that he was probably going to strap to the back of my bike.

"Ha ha very funny. I suppose I can't make you stay in your bed. You're always welcome back here, you know that right?" I walked with him to the parking lot.

"Don't get all sappy with me." Elio looked deep in thought. "I'll probably make three rides before all my stuff is moved. I'm going to get coffee first though. See you soon." Elio gave a big cough and then he was on the bike and riding off into the street.

Elio's POV

As I stood in a row at Starbucks I contemplated on the day ahead of me. I was going to get a few books first and then I would muster up the strength to move all my belongs to the dormitory. Once I was done I would take a long sleep in my dorm and then study the rest of the weekend since I knew hardly anything about pre-socratic philosophy, which was one of my main subjects this term. 

I reflected on the past week. I had been incredibly home sick. Marzia was also ignoring my messages and phone calls and dad told me he had met someone else and was leaving mom. Things were falling apart while I were away and I felt a deep sense of loneliness that even Kevin couldn't penetrate. The semester hadn't even started and I already wanted to go back. Before I knew what was happening, I was in front of the line and the Starbucks girl spilled an open cup of coffee all over my shirt. "What in the fuck woman?"

-*-

Minutes later I was pushing the metal door to the library open. At this point I was highly irritated and exhausted, my shirt stained and my coffee cup read I am so sorry! 

The library was empty except for the librarian who was a teenaged girl and a man with grey hair wearing a green scarf, pulling almost every book off the shelves. I came here for the first time just when I moved in with Kevin. The library wasn't too big and didn't look it but had an extensive philosophy selection. The shelves were lined parallel to each other and I went to said section on the far right side of the big room.

I zipped up my jacket and started looking at the books rearranged into different eras of philosophy. Most of them were reddish-auburn-brown with greek drawings on them. The one spine caught my eye; Anaxagoras in Reflection written by Zwart and Russo. My one professor's last name was Russo and I knew he had co-authored books on early philosophers before. As I put my fingers on the book's slender spine I felt someone pull the book from the other side of the shelf. I strengthened my grip and pulled it out before the other person could, finding eyes staring at me through the gap.

"Go find some other book to assist you through your mid-life crisis. I need this more than you do, I guarantee it." I glared at the man. He was practically pulling every book he could find off the shelf and I was not having it. I heard him step around the shelf.

"Excuse me?" An unexpected voice questioned me. The man with the green scarf wasn't standing in front of me. 

"Uh" I was flabbergasted. The person in front of me had deep blue eyes, with an angry look in them I daresay, dressed in all black with light brown hair. He reminded me of I guy I once saw at Coney island. One that I wanted to feel the skin underneath of his shirt.

He gave a small chuckle. "It's okay. If you want the book you can have it-"

"-I thought you were someone else," I interrupted him. My throat felt suddenly dry. 

"Don't interrupt people. It's not okay to disrespect your elders." I could tell he was joking, but his eyes had a serious gleam in them. If only he knew my thoughts were a deeper shade of disrespectful towards him at that moment. As far as I knew I was straight but my brain was going into Coney Island territory. I was just standing there, saying nothing. 

"I'm glad to see someone your age reading philosophy guides." He smiled at me. 

"I'm 24." I said abrupt. Why would I even? I hugged the book to my chest and quickly walked my 20-year-old ass pass him to a table in the far corner. 

I was paging through Anaxagoras in Reflection while sipping my coffee. My coffee stained shirt was making me uncomfortable under my jacket.

I heard a chair pull out at another table that was facing mine. It was stranger dressed in black. He was probably in his thirties. 

I returned my attention to the book: the writing should have been great but I was afraid the illustrations were the only highlight. Russo was clinically describing the things that mattered the most to the philosopher and it made me wonder if I was going to suffer very boring presentations throughout the semester. I strongly disliked a particular passage: it was on the origins of the universe in the philosopher's viewpoint. It would have been inspiring if not approached the way the authors did it. 

"Why are you staring murderously at that book?" I looked up, the man at the other table was looking curiously at me. His ankle was crossed over his knee under the table and I realised I should probably not be staring at his legs.

"The writing style isn't resonating with me. Anaxagoras is described with so much aloofness that no one other than an arrogant prick could have written this." I scowled.

He stared at me for what felt like a minute too long. "I've read that one before and I wouldn't say the same. Which page are you on?"

"Page 21." I felt exhausted.

"That's way too soon to judge a book." He returned his attention to his own books and I to mine. 

A few more pages in and I knew I was already distracted before I came in here. I opened my journal and continued the poem I started writing yesterday. 

Something was harrying  
What burden was I carrying  
was it because I missed you  
Could it be the lonliness all through

There was nothing nothing nothing  
There was no reflection....  
No connection....  
In your eyes  
Whispered the goodbyes,

I wrote until I finished it and then I ripped it out, forming it into an angry little ball and tossing it on the table in front of me. I looked at my watch and saw it was already 12 o'clock.

I packed up my stuff and without a library book or another glance I was out of there. There was lots of travelling to do.

The first drive to my dormitory was manageable and went smoothly. By the second drive I felt more tired and had to sit in the traffic while the sun set early. I was yawning endlessly on the last drive and pushing through just to get my stuff moved. 

The highway was clear, the moon full and a strong wind was blowing the trees on the side of the road. I was going fast and then some. A song I heard earlier that day, futile devices, was playing in my mind as the world blurred passed me on the bike. My eyes started to droop. Everything was fine.

And it was not. I lost my balance and before I knew it I was colliding with the hard pavement and falling a long distance down a side ditch, into putrid water. I was freezing. I gasped as my head emerged above cold drain water. My clothes were all soaked, my arms and knees had blood on them. I took my helmet off and squinted to find my bike. The yellow thing was half submerged a few feet away from me. I tried to pull it in an upright position but it was too heavy. Eventually I settled for trying to start it in its laid down position but the engine wouldn’t even make a noise. Using all my strength I climbed up the ditch, my nails scraping in the rocky surface and started limping towards the road. 

There were no cars in sight. The wind was strong and my clothes were dripping on the pavement below me. The more I walked the less I was sure of where I was going. My vision was blurry. The sky flared up like there was an explosion in the distance or something. I walked and walked and walked and shivered. The highway never ended. 

Then I saw a figure walking ahead of me in the distance. Just a shape getting smaller.

“Hey!” I limped faster, trying to catch up with them. “Wait up!” My vision was extremely tunneled but I could make out the back of dark hair. They turned their head around and the person staring back at me was me. 

He had my eyes and everything. With a smile the other Elio beckoned me to follow him and I stumbled after him, never really catching up with him. Eventually I saw a light a few feet away and briefly wondered where the other Elio went.

The sound of song filled the air and it looked like some kind of diner. I stumbled through the doorway, my vision darkening at the corners. Distantly I was aware of a crowd of people chattering and water drops falling from my clothes. I walked through the packed place right into the back of a man. He turned around and it was the same blue eyes I saw earlier that day, except they were widening now.

“Are you okay?” He grabbed a hold of my arm. 

“Your clothes are soaked through. Is this blood?” His eyes were darting around in concern. With a look left and right he steered me towards another door and room. 

“Come on,” he said as we moved to the back. I could make out basins as he started taking off my jacket. 

“I think you have hypothermia. You need to take off your clothes.” He pulled me to one of the room’s corners and crowded me there. I fumbled with my belt and different shirt buttons. Before I knew it I was standing only in boxers and he was dressing me in his cloak. 

He was clenching my upper arms. “Did you hear me? I said where do you live?” 

“In Italy.” I replied hoarsely.

“Well that’s too far away. Come on.” He took my hand and pulled me through loud music towards a jeep in the parking lot. While opening the car door he pulled the lapels of my cloak tighter together. Soon we were driving down the road in his car. 

“You’re shivering worse than when I first saw you. It’s not helping.” His forehead furrowed. I heard him mumbling something while fiddling with the heat controls. He pulled over the car suddenly. My door was opened from the outside and he was taking me out of the seat.

“You need to take off your underwear.”

My eyes went round. “How presumptuous of you.” I gave him another sideways glance, then obliged as my boxers felt like ice water against my skin in anyway. He picked it up from the pavement, helped me back to my seat again and then we were driving down the road. 

I must have fallen asleep because when I looked around me again we were in front of a tall apartment block and he was pulling me up a flight of stairs as I still wasn’t walking properly. I couldn’t make out the number on his door as he opened it and put me on a couch in the dark room. I heard fumbling and then the place lit up.

As soon as I started walking towards a room with a shower visible through its door, he grabbed my hand and steered me away. In another room he started to rap me up in blankets like I was a human burrito. He lifted me into the bed, put another blanket on top of me but I was still shivering.

“Please don’t try to take a shower. Your blood vessels will widen too quickly and it won’t do you any good. I am going to get you a hot water bottle and coffee, here’s a glass of water for now.” He disappeared.

My thoughts kept going to boiling water and showering. How it would feel running down my neck and back. I just wasn’t heating up at all.

Oliver’s POV

I didn’t think I would see the guy again whose poem was in the back of my jeans pocket. He had a haunted type of beauty, a story in his eyes that got the better part of my curiosity earlier that day. I took it out and read the smudged letters again.

Something was harrying  
What burden was I carrying  
Was it because I missed you  
Could it be the loneliness all through  
It all started the first day of summer  
I was staring in your eyes  
Feeling no surprise  
Because it felt like cold water  
The feelings was a disaster  
Immediately I saw  
There was nothing nothing nothing  
There was no reflection....  
No connection....  
In your eyes  
Whispered the goodbyes  
What is really harrying?  
Something is troubling…  
The stress is doubling  
It all changed so quickly  
Your deepest longing so sickly  
Black, dark, the fight  
This is the clock being turned  
For the bridge at Bordighera beach

The poem resonated with me on a strange level. While I waited for the kettle to boil the sound of glass shattering came from my bathroom. I ran to see what was going on and found the raven-head guy naked in my shower. The glass of water I had given him earlier was shattered on the tile floor. When I looked up at him again he was swaying sideways, about to topple over. Clothes and all on I got in and went to wrap my arms around him from behind.

“I told you not to take a shower yet. You were going to faint.” My lips formed into a tight line. I took my shirt and jeans off but kept my boxers on. We stood there for long minutes, under the hot spray with my arms wrapped around him until his skin started to flush. All at once he turned around.

He gave my body a slow once-over. His pupils dilated and when he met my gaze he quickly broke it and avoided further eye contact.

“What was that?” I chuckled and grabbed his chin to make him look at me again. Hurt puppy dog eyes stared back at me. It was my turn to study him. He had black hair that sticked wetly to his forehead, high cheekbones, a throat that was enticing me and a slender frame that I ran my eyes over from top to bottom until I heard his breath quicken.

“Are you feeling better yet?” I said and started to stroke the nape of his neck.  
He hummed in contentment. “Should I stop?” I asked him as I kept stroking his neck and ran my fingers through the little hairs on it.

“No ‘s comforting.” He murmured. I couldn’t stop myself from kissing his cheek, pressing my lips to his eye. “I didn’t think I would see you again and it would’ve been a damn shame.” The raven-head told me softly. I was surprised. 

“So you also wanted to see me again?” I saw his mouth curve into a smile as he registered what I was saying. 

Elio’s POV

I stood on my tippy toes and tried to kiss him then but somehow I missed. With raised eyebrows he laughed. 

“Are you sure you’re better? Your coordination seems to be a bit off.” He was stroking my back rhythmically and gave my lips a quick nip. I could feel myself flushing, my eyes closing briefly. I tried to kiss him again and this time succeeded. His mouth was soft and warm and when I slid my tongue in he pressed his lips together so I couldn’t really move it around. He slackened his jaw and when my tongue touched his it was kind of magical. 

My lower lip trembled when he pulled away.


End file.
